Sundays aren’t necessarily restful. Now that I think about it, I can’t come up with a day that seems particularly restful at all.
And I need a rest. From my own head, from my chatter and thoughts, from the pressure, the bad news, the obligations, the neediness of myself and others.
However, there are papers to grade and babies to love and train sets to assemble, so I defer rest for a while. Not for forever, but for a while.
And in the meantime, I repeat the words to my favorite poem — don’t roll your eyes with contempt because you hate poetry.* It’s pretty and soothing and helpful to me. Maybe it will be to you too.
JUST SIT THERE RIGHT NOW
Sit there right now.
Don’t do a thing. Just rest.
separation from God
is the hardest work in this world.
Let me bring you trays of food and something
that you like to
You can use my soft words
as a cushion
*See? Was that so awful and poem-y? Was it too Rape of the Lock for you? You know it wasn’t.
Tomorrow, we will return to our regularly scheduled rants and lists and insightful musings from yours truly.